Climbing the hill
I’m not 20 anymore. I’ve had my suspicions for a while, but I dismissed them every time as being nonsense. True, I’d noticed a couple more wrinkles these days, (and don’t get me started on gray-hairs), but it could totally have been the lighting on those photos. You know how that goes. And not everyone is photogenic. So imagine my shock when I wake up this morning and I suddenly realize that what I’d been suspecting for a while is true: I am not 20! I more like almost 40.
I went out last night with my girlfriends, and I had a great time. That’s not the issue. We hanged out for a while at one bar, had dinner at another, and ended up dancing at a club until they closed, which is 2 AM for all bars in Boise. I used to have a hard time with that (I’m from the Basque Country, remember), but honestly, I’d have kissed my girlfriends goodbye after dinner and happily been home by 10. I’d have gotten up earlier, more rested, I’d have gone to the gym at 8 and be done with it by now, leaving the whole day – untouched – ahead. I mean, you know you’re old when you get up hangover in the morning and you didn’t even drink.
Yeah… Sorry, I’d love to stay and visit a little longer, but I must go deal with this unsettling discovery. I’ll start by looking on the bright side and rejoicing in the fact that, at least, I’m not 43. Haha.
- Cheet-ugh Girls
- Just say ‘Thank you’ and take it!
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